


Ameilia Interrogates a Detective

by twosockles



Category: Futur Radio, Original Work
Genre: Amelia has a lot of potential but can't see past her past, Bec voice: I'm relateable to the teens right?, Gen, tfw you try and bond with a 14 year old girl with emotional issues
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-01
Updated: 2018-10-01
Packaged: 2020-03-26 14:25:56
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,219
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19007629
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/twosockles/pseuds/twosockles
Summary: Bec and Amelia have a chat while they wait for Lt. Ross to return. (Original post date: Oct 01 2018)





	Ameilia Interrogates a Detective

**Author's Note:**

> I used to think I might be bad  
> Now I'm sure that it's true  
> Cause I think you're so good  
> And I'm nothing like you.

**Interrogation 1**

“Wait here.” 

Lt.Ross waved the Bec and Amelia into the room, commanding compliance as always. “I’ll be back shortly with the photos. Hopefully you recognize some of them.”

They stood in the library-office that Bec had made for himself over the years. Amelia perched herself on the desk, idling swinging her legs. Bec sat on the arm of the couch. Bec smiled reassuringly at Lt.Ross, who glanced between them briefly, before leaving the room. No more than a second after the door clicked shut, Bec proceeded to pull out a fruit roll up from his coat pocket. 

“Catch.”

The packaged treat makes a graceful arc through the air, intercepted swiftly by eager hands. Amelia made a sound that was split between a gasp of joy, a thank you, and the tearing of foil on teeth. The girl on the desk peels back the cellophane with an exuberance Bec had yet to see from her. 

“Where dib fou get dis from?” Her words come out muffled from behind the candy

“The kitchen” Well. Sort of. 

“Cop’s keep stuff like this around? Don’t you guys have to keep in shape or something?”

“Not all of us. The desk guys are free to be as thin or fit as they like.”

Amelia is quiet, but Bec isn’t willing to let the conversation get cold while they wait. He continues, leaning in as if telling a secret

“The key is to know who’s bringing what and on what day. Then getting the jump on it when the opportunity arises.”

“So, you stole it” Amelia takes another nonchalant mouthful of thin candy as she appraised him. Bec gave his best mock gasp, leaning back dramatically.

“What? Me? Stealing? Oh no. This was lawfully obtained.” 

“Uh, huh? Everything okay at home Mr.Reissner? Are your parents feeding you enough?”

There is a bitter bite to her words, that makes Bec think someone probably used a very similar line on her before. Perhaps in her kidnapping statement, or some other misconduct she’d gotten caught up in. He tries not to frown, to keep up the bit while she stares him down. 

“I never met ‘em,” Bec, you idiot what the hell was that. He stumbles a bit as he tries to recover. “But the precinct here is kinda like my family. And no. They keep trying to make me eat more protein and fruit.” 

Amelia is about halfway through the fruit roll-up. She looks thoughtful, and Bec hopes it’s not about the lack of parents. Not when she’s just-

“How do you even become a cop anyways?” 

Thank God. A chain of questions Bec can comfortably follow.

“You have to graduate high school for a start.”

“Oh, Boo.” Bec laughed.

“Actually, most applications require a college degree. On top of getting into the police academy.”

“Bleh.” Amelia stuck her tongue out, which had now turned bright blue.

“Then, you go through a lot of testing. They check your eyes, your ears, your fitness...they even examine your personality.” He gestures to the wall to his left. “The room next to us has a psychology researcher who’s studying cops and detectives personality traits. Big deal for a lot of people.”

“How long do you have to be in the academy for?”

“17 weeks usually.” 

“Was it hard?”

It’s a bit of a loaded question. He’s heard whole range of the good the bad and the ugly. 

“I got off a bit easy I think. It helped not being the only brown person in the cohort.”

Which was true. He had Abeer Mansuri to share the burden of not looking white, of not sounding like a colonial North American. They never really talked, but they’d give each other a little nod every now and then which spoke loud enough. His year in boarding school had been worse than the academy. He liked to study and he didn’t mind the drills. Bec missed the day where he was in peak physical health. Nowadays he found stairs a daunting task. To be fair, he didn’t have shattered kneecaps back then. 

He thinks about how Lt.Ross had to fight his way through every day. Had to stare down an officer who still viewed the Japanese as the enemy. A single drop was a considered a poison without a cure, and Ross was ‘half too much’. Bec remembers several occasions where he had sat on Ross’s back yard patio and listened to horror stories. It must have been so satisfying to graduate, to make it as an officer, to be recognized and promoted. To be where his now despite it all.

It’s hard to tell that to Amelia. Not because he thinks she isn’t old enough, God knows she’s been through hell already. It’s hard because….alright he doesn’t have a solid reason. He doesn’t want to dampen the mood perhaps. But Amelia’s got a morbid streak, if she can find a severed hand funny, she’ll love this tidbit.

“....Halfway through they pepper spray you, so you can see how it feels.”

Amelia gives him a look of surprise, that turns into disbelief. He confirms it to be true, that they really did line them up and endure a terrible week of pain. It definitely made him think twice before using it. He tells Amelia that its absolutely acceptable to buy some and use it on people to defend herself should her ‘usual methods’ fail.

Amelia finishes her fruit roll-up, and begins to tie the cellophane paper around her wrist like a ribbon. 

“Do they make you shave your head when you start?” Amelia looks worried, and he can’t place why.

“Nope, it’s not the army. But you do have to sleep in bunk-beds. Very cold bunk-beds.” 

“I’d be okay with that.” And then it clicks.

“Amelia, are you....” Amelia already begins to looks defensive, avoiding eye contact and crossing her arms.”...Thinking about becoming a police officer.”

There’s silence, no movement from either of them. Finally Amelia yanks the cellophane ribbon off in a huff.

“I don’t know.” 

Rip.

“I don’t know what I’m supposed to do.”

Rip.

“Not now, not in the future.”

Rip.

“I don’t want to be a bad person I just-”

She stops ripping the paper.

“If I’m destined to hurt other people, isn’t it better to hurt bad people?”

Bec’s mind is ticking away, picking apart the clues. This is an unfamiliar, but not unexpected mood to find Amelia facing.

“Why do you say you’re destined to hurt other people Amelia?”

“It keeps happening.” She still won’t look at him.

“Accidents aren’t-”

Amelia interrupts. 

“Have you killed someone before?”

Bec finally looks away. Her eyes are finally directed at him, and he can’t meet them. He chews over his words and swallows.

“Yes.”

More silence.

“...Thanks for the frootie.”

No questions, no follow up. It’s not like her at all. She hops off the desk and sits on the other end of the couch.

“You aren’t going to ask about it?”

“Maybe another day.”

Her voice sounds distant. Bec hopes he hasn’t ruined her opinion of him, less so for his own esteem, but for herself. If she needs someone to hold herself up to, someone she thinks is good...

If she wants to believe he is, he’s happy to pretend.

**Author's Note:**

> Amelia and Bec have a really neat, supportive relationship and I'm gonna write a lot more of them. It's found family time babyyy


End file.
